


a soul without virtue will rot

by confidantes



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidantes/pseuds/confidantes
Summary: Zura works at an okama bar, Gin is an annoyance as ever.





	a soul without virtue will rot

**Author's Note:**

> posting a bunch of old fic from 2014 i dug up, don't mind me

There’s something wrong, Katsura thinks, with Gintoki sitting in the booth next to you chugging alcohol like there’s no tomorrow being a  _regular occurrence._

He’s frowning, plum-tinted lips pulled together in a prim and stern fashion, arms folded together underneath his neat kimono. “You’re just hiding from Shinpachi-kun and Leader again, aren’t you.” He shakes his head, elegant ponytail swishing against his neck. “Don’t you remember what Shouyo-sensei taught us? A soul without virtue will rot, Gintoki.”

Gin downs his glass and slams it on the table in front of him, exhaling loudly. “Yeah, and my ears will also rot from their yapping.” He grabs the bottle sitting on the table and refills his glass. “Besides, I’m just here for the free booze.”

Katsura’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Free booze?”

“Yeah, with your employee discount and all that.”

He frowns. “Gintoki, I’ve been putting all of this on your own tab this entire time.”

Gin sputters and spits out the rest of his drink. “What the hell, why didn’t you tell me?! And I’ve been so generous with  _you._ See if I let you suck my dick anymore.”

Katsura turns red and hisses furiously, “ _Not here, Gintoki!!_ ”

“What?” Gin snorts. “You work at an okama bar, I don’t think it’s a secret that you prefer dick, Zura.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Zurako,” he mumbles through gritted teeth, fingers curling around his kimono. Gin scratches the back of his head.

“You’re really angry, aren’t you.”

“Of course I’m angry, you stupid paahead!” He turns his head so quickly his ponytail hits Gin right in the face. “You’ve never once tried to understand anything about my gender or sexuality. Would it kill you to just once listen and stop saying whatever you damn well please, you perverted diabetic?!”

Gin sighs. “What does it matter, anyway?”

Katsura’s voice is near-growling. “ _Of course it matters_ –”

“I’m saying,” Gin says over him, “what does it matter, this or that, man, woman, or not, gay, straight, whatever. Hell, you could be a bamboo plant, and at the end of the day, my feelings would still be the same.”

That shuts Katsura right up, mouth gaping open in slight surprise. Gin takes advantage of this momentary lapse in judgment to lean in close, close enough to grasp a stray lock of Zura’s hair and bring it to his nose. The best thing about Zura in drag is that he doesn’t use a wig – it’s his real hair piled on top of his head in a graceful ponytail, pooling over his shoulders with the scent of Gintoki’s shampoo. He takes a strange pleasure in knowing that of all the men who come to visit Zura and get to smell his hair, Gintoki is the only one who knows what it really is.

That kind of privacy and intimacy, it makes every primal instinct in him burn.

He murmurs low in Zura’s ear, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are when you’re angry?”

Katsura blushes once, frowns, and then pushes him away. “You _can_ be smooth sometimes, can’t you,” he says, turning his head to hide a small smile. “Now get out of here before I call security on you.”


End file.
